


Everybody Make A Scene

by Glowstickia, OneThreateningAcronym



Series: Challenge of the Hallows Eve [2]
Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, paranatural halloween challenge 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8286028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glowstickia/pseuds/Glowstickia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneThreateningAcronym/pseuds/OneThreateningAcronym
Summary: Four bullies and a nerd walk to a festival.





	1. Pumpkin Guts and Glory

**Author's Note:**

> Week 2 Prompt: Halloween Town

It was a beautiful October afternoon. The leaves were vibrant and dying, the dark white clouds hid away the sun, and the birds were attacking. Always with the birds, Mayview. 

He'd never had this problem in Baxborough.

Max’s shoes slapped the pavement as he ran, crunching the occasional unfortunate leaf that found its way underfoot. Behind him, the murderous murder of alpacacrows screeched for blood and redoubled their efforts to catch him. Birds. Why was it always  _ birds _ ? He should’ve taken the bus. This was what he got for walking home from school. Alone.

An unfamiliar street sign whizzed by him.  [ If he ended up lost and trying to use his bat as a compass again ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5753239) …

Before Max could even begin to wonder how lost he was , several pumpkins smashed into the privacy fence behind just him.  A spray of pumpkin guts hit him in the back from the impact.  He could feel a wet seed sticking to the back of his neck. The Alpacrows pursuing him screeched in confusion at the sudden barrage and stopped. Max stumbled to a stop and nearly tripped over his own momentum. He looked behind him, at the birds and at the sad remains of several  pumpkins staining the sidewalk …

“YOU GUYS MISSED! THEY’RE RIGHT THERE! HOW COULD YOU MISS?!”

Max groaned, recognizing the voice in an instant. As if his luck today hadn’t been terrible enough.

“Dude, we can’t exactly  _ see _ them,” Ollie pointed out.

Max warily turned towards the familiar voices across the street.  Johnny jumped and flailed, gesturing between the remains of what looked like kicked in pumpkins and the bird spirits . Ollie, in contrast, was the picture of  exasperated calm as he attempted to get a word in edgewise .  RJ, wearing a festive skeleton hoodie, pocketed their phone and  gave a friendly wave in Max’s direction. Stephen ignored all of them, favoring a s'more.

Max stared at the four of them, absolutely bewildered.

“SQUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK!!!!!!!!”

Max was jolted back to the situation at hand. He was still supposed to be running for his life, how could he forget? He took off once more and the chase resumed, hoofbeats and flapping wings at his heels. In his opinion, being chased by murderous spirits was better than being forcefully involved in whatever the gang was doing. It seemed messy and illegal. 

“HE’S ON THE RUN!” Johnny squaked.  Max didn’t need to check to know they were chasing after him now. “FORMATION FOXTROT! INDIA! ROMEO! ECHO! PUNCH! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!”

“I’m a good person,” Max reasoned to himself quietly. He refused to look behind him. He’d rather die. “I don’t deserve this.”

Max looked behind him. First and foremost, there were the angry, feathered spirits galloping after him, thirsting for his blood. And behind those… was Johnny and the gang; stacked like a combination robot from one of Isaac’s cartoons. RJ and Stephen clung to Ollie’s arms with  broken pumpkin parts poised for attack. Johnny was seated on Ollie’s shoulders with his hand thrust outward, like he was leading a charge. Whether or not they thirsted for his blood or for more pumpkin guts to be spilt was  [ a mystery ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fq3abPnEEGE) , and he didn’t want answers.

Johnny continued to shout out commands Max could barely hear over the sound of his heart pounding in his eardrums. Pumpkins crashed behind him and exploded into useless chunks. How the gang acquired so many probably involved delinquent activities and blackmail.

After the pumpkins, there was a series of other shouts and orders. And then an actual explosion.

Max tripped and tumbled onto the sidewalk from the force of it. A wave of heat and spectral feathers crashed over him. A yellow spirit pumpkin scuttled  away giggling, he thought. His ears were ringing too loud to be sure . He cracked one of his eyes open and stared at the radius of burnt sidewalk not three feet behind him. Max felt faint.

Johnny and the gang hurried over to him, their friendship fusion disbanded.  From this angle, Max couldn’t help but notice their shoes were covered in dried pumpkin seeds and pulp. Max slowly looked up, meeting their panicked expressions. Their silence said more than any words actually could. Ollie helped Max to his feet and dusted him off. RJ took a picture of the scorch marks.  Stephen ran the length of the privacy fence and came back again, screaming at spirits no longer there. 

“You good?” Ollie asked, looking down at him. Max nodded wordlessly, staring at the blackened sidewalk where he had been standing less than a minute ago.  It was a good thing he had Ollie supporting him, or else Max might have ended up on the ground again. “One heck of a pyrotechnic show there, J,” Ollie continued, switching his attention from one spectral to the other.

Johnny snapped back to attention. The distant, fearful look in his eyes Max thought he’d seen fizzled out like a wet candle wick and, in no time at all, his brash bravado was back in place. “You better believe it was! Those weird, furry weirdos’ll think twice before they try and come after one of mine again!” Johnny puffed his chest.

Max rolled his eyes. At least Johnny’s enthusiasm was in tact. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said. I’d need some paperwork and a fire extinguisher to even get started on that.”

“Oh, come on! Is that any way to treat the person who just saved your hide?” Johnny huffed, indignantly crossing his arms.

“Saved it, or nearly flayed it?”

Johnny scoffed. “Oh, quit your whining. You’re still alive, aren’t ya?”

Max checked his back and patted his hoodie. “Somehow still intact with some scrapes and charred jeans. My butt is a little too warm for comfort.”

“Dude,” Ollie grimaced. “Ew.”

“Rump roasted,” RJ muttered, eyes glued to their camera’s screen.

“Could we  _ please _ not talk about nerd butt?” Stephen groaned, wandering back from halfway down the sidewalk.  He must have realized the spirits had fled already, Max figured.  At least the yelling had stopped.

“Agreed. We have more important matters to discuss,” Johnny said. He poked Max squarely in the chest. “Why were you walking such a wonky way home, dude? This is nowhere near your homage.”

“One,” Max held up his index finger, “how do you know my usual route? Two,” he held up another finger, “why do you know it well enough to know I’m not on it?”

“Because you’re my friend and I care about you,” Johnny said with the utmost sincerity. Max regarded him dryly. “...also because we were totally planning to jump you this week  _ 7 Saturdays At Suzy’s  _ style to kick off the Halloween season.”

“Why would anyone stay at Suzy’s for one day, let alone seven?” Max almost followed up with asking about why Suzy was involved in their Halloween celebrations, but felt he didn’t want to know. It was probably, most likely, illegal.

“....Remind me that we need to drag you over to RJ’s for game night later this week,” Johnny said after a moment. Max cringed. RJ perked up, staring with intrigue. “Also, quit flipping around the conversation. What are you even doing on this side of town? And why are you getting chased by weird llama ravens? These are important, existential questions, my man,” Johnny insisted. The rest of the gang nodded, all equally serious. 

“Because all birds hate me, Johnny. All birds. Even the dead ones,” Max replied, bluntly. “What are  _ you _ doing on this side of town?”

“We’re going to the festival, duh,” Stephen said, rolling his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Max’s brows knitted together. “Festival? What festival?”

A chorus of horrified gasps rang out. Gingerly, as if touching a wounded kitten, Johnny put his arm on Max’s shoulders. Heat radiated from Johnny and through Max’s hoodie. It was uncomfortably warm.“Well, Maximum Nerd,” he began, his tone informing Max that he was going to regret asking, “if you  _ must _ know...”


	2. First Festival

Johnny swept his arms towards the streets dramatically. “THIS FESTIVAL!”

Max stared at him. “So  _ now _ you answer my question,” Max looked to the gang then back at Johnny. “Please don’t tell me you were dead silent the entire walk over here just because you wanted to do that.” Johnny grinned, showing his teeth. Max merely sighed. Johnny wasted no time in dragging all of them, Max rather bodily, towards the festivities. While it seemed there was one large event going down at the center of town, the walk there was practically an event itself.

The group of five wandered down the streets in a huddle, soaking in the sights. It was as if the entire town of Mayview was competing for who had the most ridiculously decorated yard. 

Strings of lights in purple, orange, and green wrapped around porches and through bushes. Fake corpses and bones hung from trees; plastic bats that dangled daintily from bare branches. Webs, spiders, fake blood, and ghostly sheets adorned almost every windowsill and doorframe, not to mention rooftop. Someone had a skeletal Santa Claus and his Sleigh; another rooftop had demons doing the can-can. Max swore he overheard Johnny whispering about coming back later and stealing some of these for their secret hideout.

“Is it always like this?” Max couldn’t help but ask, a little awestruck. 

Stephen gave him an odd look. “Like what?”

“Like… this,” Max waved a hand at all the decorations that had sprung up overnight. Rather like the spirit pumpkins, really. “Does everyone in Mayview go all out like this every year?”

“Do they  _ not _ where you came from?” Stephen questioned. His face contorted in offended confusion at the very suggestion.

Max shook his head. “I think the most festive anyone in Baxborough ever got for Halloween was a pumpkin on their porch,” he admitted, earning a series of shocked looks from everyone present. RJ laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Dude…” Stephen muttered, eyes wide with horror.

“We  _ love _ Halloween. Like, I’m pretty sure it’s against the law here to not celebrate it,” Johnny chimed in, swinging around to walk backwards so he could get a good look at Max. “Are you really telling me you didn’t do anything like this back in Bax?”

“Nope,” Max shrugged. “I mean, we trick or treated and stuff, but that was really about it… We used to decorate a bunch as a family, but…” he trailed. Shook his head. “Is it gonna be like this all month?”

Johnny gave him an odd look for the sudden topic chance, but didn’t pry. “Pretty much, yeah. There’s a whole bunch of stuff planned, events and other traditional junk that everyone just kind of does… you’ll find out about most of it sooner or later.”   
  
“What, not even a warning?” Max asked.

Johnny grinned at him. “Nope!” he responded cheekily, spinning around to face forwards again. Max rolled his eyes. 

They passed a driveway lined with jack-o-lanterns. More carved pumpkins were scattered across lawns, porches, and near the sidewalk haphazardly.  Some of them looked suspiciously kicked in... Max did his best to not stare at the spirit pumpkins hiding amongst the decorations and carnage. It was a little difficult, especially when Johnny decided to charge ahead through  a group of them settled in a stranger’s yard . They startled and took off like a flock of birds.

The rest of them stopped walking. Ollie sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s doing it again, isn’t he?”  he asked, sounding like he already knew the answer.

Max blinked up at him a bit dumbly. “Doing what? Being an idiot, or…?”

“Messin’ with ghosts,” RJ knelt down and took picture of a pumpkin with a silhouette of a spider carved into it. “Johnny has fun.”

“Have we figured out yet if that camera of yours can see the supernatural yet?” Stephen asked, peeking over their shoulder at the picture.   
  
“Negative,” RJ responded. They turned and snapped a picture of Johnny trying to ride a large, pastel yellow pumpkin spirit into someone's massive, decorative graveyard display. Max could hardly imagine how that had to look non-spectrals. 

“I’m not paid enough for this,” Ollie sighed again. Heavily. Max watched Ollie square and set his shoulders. With admirable determination, the Brain of the gang marched towards Johnny and his careening pumpkin. He plucked him out of the air by the collar of his leather jacket. “Stop that, you’re gonna get arrested or something.”

Johnny struggled in mid-air, wiggling valiantly until Ollie finally dropped him into the grass. He landed about as gracefully as Johnny Jhonny was capable, Max figured, watching him nearly knock over a blow up Grim Reaper as he regained his balance. Johnny glared up at Ollie. “None of us are paid in anything but friendship, Ollie. You know that.”

“And nerd’s lunch money,” Stephen added as he, Max, and RJ wandered up to them. Max stepped carefully around a few plaster tombstones. One read: I. Emma Spook. A small, gold pumpkin spirit peaked out from behind it and snickered at him.

Johnny looked to Max then back at Stephen, nodding in agreement. “Yeah,” Johnny turned to Max and held out his hand expectantly and grabby, “So, nerd. Gimme those simoleons.”

Max stared at Johnny’s extended, waiting hand. “What?” Before he knew it, he was encircled by bullies, like vultures.

Darn bird analogies.

“Simoleons. Dough. Cheese. Monies. Quarters,” Johnny’s hand grabbed at Max’s hoodie, “I need all of it.”

Max shrugged off Johnny’s hand. “Sorry, I already gave all of my money to the puppy orphanage charity today. No spare change.”

To Max’s surprise, Johnny seemed to believe him. Johnny shoved his hands in his pockets. “Hmph. Well, I’ll add this one to your tab then…” he grumbled, motioning for the gang to get moving. Ollie rolled his eyes silently but dutifully shoved Max forward from behind. Johnny sauntered onwards, leading the pack. “S’too bad though, you won’t be able to buy anything from any of the booths.”

“Booths?” Max asked.  He could hear music and people from just ahead, faint but close. He tried to sneak a glance around the bullies to see where they were headed, with limited success. They had him surrounded like bodyguards on all sides. Like they were protecting him from birds… or trying to impede any escapes. Due to the lack of cracks in their friendship formation, Max was going to guess it was the latter.

“You’re just full of questions today, ain’t ya?” Johnny said, craning his head towards him. “Have some patience. What are you, an-”   
  
“Out of work doctor?” Max interrupted. Johnny stared at him in gobsmacked offense. Ollie face palmed, disappointed. Max raised an eyebrow at both of them. “What?”

“Who are you, gingersnap?!” Johnny threw his hands up in the air. “Cuz you’re really stealing my thunder here, man!”

“I hate both of you,” Ollie said flatly, seeming to regret every life choice that had landed him here. “Lovecraft pays better.”

“Lisa PAYS you?” Max turned and gave him an astonished look. Ahead of him, Johnny pouted and crossed his arms.

Ollie rolled his eyes.  “Of course she pays me. Why wouldn’t she?” he asked.

“I thought you were under some weird blood oath to her and had to do her bidding in exchange for RJ’s hair,” Max answered frankly. RJ shot him the most offended look Max thought he’d ever seen on them.

“EVERYBODY SHUT UP WE’RE HERE!” Johnny shouted. The group came to an abrupt halt. Max bumped into Johnny’s back, smacking his nose against the back of his skull. Grumbling to himself, Max snuck a look around Johnny’s shoulder as the bully boomed: “WELCOME TO HALLOWEEN TOWN!”

“...But we never left Mayview?” Stephen commented, bemused.

“IT’S THE SPIRIT OF THE THING.”

“If you make one more ghost pun, I’m resigning,” Ollie deadpanned.

Max ignored them and turned his focus to more important matters. Primarily, “Halloween Town” laid out front of them… or rather, Mayview’s annual October Festival, if the giant banner hanging across the entryway was anything to go by.

A woman wearing a witch’s hat was painting stitches and gashes on a kid’s face at a cute, wooden stand.  Examples of Halloween-esque face paint was propped on a tripod outside the booth . Next-door, a weary teenager was running around their spookified cart, grabbing food for the group of people outside their booth. Across the way, Max swore he saw Isaac’s hair poking out of a tent selling what appeared to be pumpkin spice everything. In the center of the street was a stack of hay bales, proudly displaying the painted pumpkins produced during events from the day before. Max was a little jealous he had missed it.

Before Max could make a comment, the bullies kept moving. Stephen shoved him forward. Max caught glimpses of wood carvings, homemade crafts, crochet shawls, and quilted blankets. The sweet scent of caramel popcorn and roasted nuts filled the air. They past a booth of homemade soups and noodles as the owners called out, “Free samples!”

They walked right by the food. The owners paused their excited advertising to glare at them before quickly falling back into cheerful form. The bullies all grumbled and kept walking, faces sour. “I can’t believe they’re still mad about last year, ” Johnny muttered. “What’s a few burns and a hole in the roof besides great advertisement?”

Max raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He didn’t want to know.

They passed a tent shimmering in the afternoon sun. A crow spirit sat perched atop, eyeing the array of jewelry presented like a four course meal on the other side of plastic windows . It craned two of its three heads at them in curiosity. Johnny stuck a hand out and the group slowed to a stop. He looked very serious. “Hold up, I wanna check this stuff out.”

“Really?” Max marvelled. He looked the booth up and down, eyes scrunching in confusion.

“Just roll with it,” RJ told him, following Johnny into the tent. Ollie brought up the rear and pushed Max forward, forcing him through the small entrance with Stephen at his side.

Inside, Max was met with overpowering, atmospheric incense and enough metal that he could probably fight a spirit at that very second and win. Necklaces dangled from a repurposed dressing screen just inside the tent and folded out plastic tables showcased bracelets and pendants along the walls. A friendly, brown haired girl with a name tag reading  _ Riley _ stood at the register chatting with another customer. 

The group dispersed awkwardly to different parts of the tent, no one besides Johnny having any desire to be in there. Johnny himself quickly made his way to one of the side tables, clearly on a mission.  Max watched him out of the corner of his eyes. Johnny scanned the table intently, walking down the length of it. He stopped and started, pausing briefly as he scanned the selection. After a little white he backtracked, wandering to stand in front of a display of friendship bracelets and a few wicker baskets. A torn piece of paper labeled the rings for 50 cents in hastily written black sharpie.

“Max,” Johnny beckoned him over, his eyes never leaving the table . “C’mere a sec.”

Max hesitated. Johnny’s beckoning intensified, his hand waving him over feverishly. Max looked to the rest of the gang, who were very pointedly not looking at either of them. Ollie and Max made brief eye contact. The look in Ollie’s eyes spelled a clear message:  _ just get it over with _ . Max swallowed and turned back to look at Johnny. His hand was moving so fast, Max could hardly see anything but the blur of motion against the dark curtains of the tent. With the sneaky eyes of the rest of the gang on him, Max took a step forward.

As soon as Max was within arms reach, Johnny grabbed his sleeve and tugged him the rest of the way over.  It was only at this distance that Max realized Johnny wasn’t looking at the friendship bracelets at all. He was looking at the baskets; filled with colorful, resin rings.  “So, Puckett,” Johnny gestured to the jewelry, “you’ve got a sister, right?”

Max wasn’t sure he wanted to answer that. “Um, yeah. About seven.”   
  
“Cool cool,” Johnny nodded, as if filing away pertinent information. “ Seven sisters. Awesome. And you’ve got a bunch of lady friends, right? From Baxbourough to Mayview. I’ve heard you mention ‘em a bunch.”

“...What kind of conversation is this?” Max asked cautiously. “And what do you mean by lady friends?”

“Y’know…” Johnny trailed off. His eyes darted back into the rings. Max stared.  Was Johnny… embarrassed? “You know a lot of girls. And your friends with a lot of girls. So you know the kinds of stuff they like, right?”   
  
Oh god.

“Ohmygosh,” every ounce of dread and unease left Max’s body, replaced by sheer, undiluted smugness. “Are you asking me for girl advice?”

“NO! I don’t need any kind of anything from you, featherbrain,” Johnny denied vehemently, face going red. Max couldn’t contain the grin that grew on his face. Johnny pointedly pointed back at the rings. “I just…. NEED TO KNOW if, you know…. Girl’s like these sorts of things,” he concluded lamely.

There was a beat of silence.

“I mean…” Max stopped, giving the thought some consideration. “Most girls do, I guess? Zoey’s not much for jewelry, but I guess with these kinds of rings, it depends on the girl you wanna get it for.”

Another beat of silence. The temperature in the tent rose a few noticeable degrees. Max could feel the rest of the gang’s eyes, staring at them blatantly. 

Johnny took a very large, slow breath and exhaled just as slowly.

“Lemme cut to the cheese,” Johnny said, clapping his hands together. He glared at Max, assuring he stayed silent. “Do you know if them fighty types of girls like this kind of jewelry? Girls who like punching things?”

…………………

oh.

Oh.

OH.

“Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooh my gosh,” realization dawned on Max like the rising sun. Johnny’s ears went pink. “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH MY GOOOOOOOOOOO-”

“DUDE KNOCK IT OFF IT AIN’T THAT BIG OF A DEAL!” Johnny yelled, his voice just barely louder than Max’s continuous  _ “ooooooooh” _ .

“Are you asking me if Isabel likes rings and jewelry?” Max teased, leaning into Johnny’s personal space tauntingly. “Are you asking ME if ISABEL GUERRA,  punchiest girl in Mayview , is the kind of girl who likes wearing rings?”

“MAYBE. NO. WHAT’S IT EVEN TO YOU, MAN!?” Johnny’s arms waved around the tent in an embarrassed blur of limbs. “IT’S JUST A QUESTION!”

Max had never been this delighted by someone else’s suffering in his life. He slung an arm around Johnny’s shoulders, enjoying how the tables had turned. “Is that why you were asking me for money?” he pondered aloud, staring off as if in intense thought. He smirked at Johnny’s red, glowering face. “Was it, in fact…. Because you wanted to give Isabel a present?”   
  
“Um, Max-” Ollie tried to interject.

“But why would you want to do that?” Max continued, oblivious to Ollie’s warning as he monologued. “Isabel Guerra? Seems like the last person YOU would be getting a present for…”

“Hey, Max,” Ollie tried again, to no avail. Max was in  **_the zone_ ** .

“Could it be because…” Max locked eyes with Johnny. His face twisted into an evil grin, “You  _ liiiiiiiiiiiiiike _ her?” he gushed, hugging Johnny like a child would to a pet trying to escape.

“PUCKETT, your ARMS are ON FIRE!” Ollie shouted finally in exasperation.

A beat of silence reigned in the tent.

Max looked slowly down at his arms, encircled around a very enraged and burning Johnny Jhonny. He’d been thinking it was oddly warm… and painful. Max let out a delayed shriek and shoved Johnny away. He flailed. Panic rose up in him, choking and prickling in his throat. His arm hit a nearby table cloth, setting it alight. The flames didn’t travel far. A fire extinguisher was quickly brandished and used by Ollie, plunging the tent into a cold, white fog. The blaze didn’t stand a chance. Only scorch marks and the overwhelming smell of burnt fabric remained. And foam.

As the CO2 cleared, no one knew what to say.

Johnny spoke first, his first words in several minutes. “You’re dead to me,” he told Max.

“I deserve that,” Max agreed, nodding. 

“What did you do to my store!?” the poor shop keeper demanded, looking at the disaster in distress.

Ollie put the fire extinguisher away… to wherever he’d pulled it out from. Max had no idea. “Our friend has a medical condition,” Ollie stated matter of factly. “He spontaneously combusts under pressure. We’ll be going now.”

Ollie grabbed Max and Johnny by their hood and collar respectively and, like a haggard mother, dragged them both out of the tent before the shopkeeper could asked any more questions. Stephen and RJ hurried after them, pocketing a few of the rings off the table as they exited the tent. Ollie pulled his captives off to a small, unpopulated corner of the festival. Max knew better than to resist. Apparently, so did Johnny.

Ollie let them drop away from anyone who could save them. He glared down at them, crossing his arms. Both Max and Johnny shuffled awkwardly under his stern gaze. “You just had to make a scene, didn’t you?” he asked, the question clearly rhetorical.

Johnny and Max glanced at each other, then back to Ollie. Back at each other. Towards the tent. Back towards Ollie. Simultaneously, they opened their mouths to start defending themselves. Before either of them could say a their piece, they were interrupted by a familiar voice a few yards in the distance.

“That’s them!” all five children turned. It was the shopkeeper from the jewelry tent. She was pointing at them, drawing attention to the two police officers that accompanied her. “They’re the ones! They set my tent on fire and stole my merchandise!”

The police officers stared at them. At once, they both began walking towards them.

Stephen picked Max up before he had the chance to comprehend what had just happened. The hyena boy screeched, “BOOK IT, IT’S THE FEDS!”

As a group, they all took off running. Max could do nothing as he became an accomplice to something almost definitely illegal.

What a way to end the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS:  
> “Wow,” Johnny said, awe clear in his voice. He pointed blatantly at Isaac manning a fancy looking booth, “They really DO have pumpkin spice everything nowadays.”  
> Isaac’s loud, indignant squawk almost made Max think the alpacrows had come for him again. Almost.


End file.
